After Transmigrating into a Book, I Finally Have an Omega - Chapter 8

Chao Nanxi stood up, feeling a wave of reluctance.

She had once observed patients with post-traumatic stress disorder to prepare for a role, and she knew well that forcing someone to face their fears head-on often only triggered deeper trauma.

Upon hearing her words, Cen Xin’s eyes filled with a dazed look. She seemed to link it to something, appearing as if she wanted to say something but ultimately lowered her head in silence, hiding beneath the brim of her hat.

Chao Nanxi moved to sit down, but the moment she shifted, her hem was caught.

“I… I need this job.”

Cen Xin’s voice was tiny, muffled and unclear.

Chao Nanxi didn’t stop her. “Cen Xin, lift your head. If this is what you truly think, let me see it in your eyes.”

Cen Xin’s grip on the clothes tightened, wrinkling the fabric. She looked up, her eyes showing clear hesitation accompanied by surging emotions. It was like a flower at the end of a fog—outlines blurred, colors distorted, fragrance scattered by the wind.

Chao Nanxi couldn’t see clearly, but she knew Cen Xin hadn’t fully made up her mind.

“You don’t have to answer so quickly.”

Chao Nanxi noted the fear in Cen Xin’s eyes.

“I’m going to give myself a few days off. You should go rest too. It’s paid leave.”

In the end, what is it that she wants to say but can’t?

“Cen Xin, I trust you and respect you. I hope you respect yourself too. Over the next few days, ask yourself: what is it that you truly want?”

Cen Xin’s worries gradually became visible—heavy and thick. Logically, they had only just begun to interact; what could she be so concerned about?

Chao Nanxi waited for Cen Xin to let go of her clothes. “I’ll send you back.”

Cen Xin nodded numbly, not daring to meet Nanxi’s gaze.

Fragments of memories were incomplete, appearing in dreams without beginning or end. Cen Xin closed her eyes and tried to remember until her temples throbbed, yet she couldn’t piece it all together.

In her exhaustion, she leaned against the car seat and fell asleep. The dream arrived once more.

At some point, Cen Xin had turned toward Chao Nanxi. Her thick glasses frames pressed against the side of her ear, leaving the skin flushed. Since the drive was long, Chao Nanxi took the liberty of sliding the glasses off the bridge of her nose.

Nanxi knew Cen Xin’s eyes were bright, but only now did she realize that without the barrier of the glasses, her eyelashes were remarkably long. They were a dense, interlaced thicket. Her petite nose and diamond-shaped lips possessed an undeniable charm in stillness; her sleeping face was impossibly beautiful.

If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she might not have believed that a pair of glasses could make such a difference in a person’s appearance.

Before looking away, Chao Nanxi’s gaze lingered involuntarily on Cen Xin’s soft lips.

As they neared Cen Xin’s home, Chao Nanxi looked out the window. The roads were poorly planned and the architectural styles were outdated; every detail indicated that this area was underdeveloped.

Just as she was about to wake Cen Xin, the sleeping girl began to cry. Her brows were furrowed, and a massive wave of sorrow suddenly became apparent.

The car stopped. Cen Xin snapped her eyes open and, in her confusion, grabbed Nanxi’s sleeve. “The nursing home… I want to go to the nursing home.”

Chao Nanxi patted her shoulder. “Tell me the address.”

They turned around, and the car sped off. Before the car had even come to a full stop at their destination, Cen Xin tried to scramble out. Chao Nanxi grabbed her backpack.

“Cen Xin, do you need money?”

Why she was here or what had startled her awake didn’t concern Nanxi. But she was her employee; basic care was necessary.

Cen Xin shook her head quickly, then hesitated and nodded through her panic. Tears shimmered in her eyes—she looked fragile yet determined.

Chao Nanxi let go. “I’ll transfer it to you. Tell me if it’s not enough, but I don’t want you to choose this job just because of that.”

“Cen Xin, I don’t need you to ‘repay a debt.’ That’s too melodramatic and cliché.”

Cen Xin rushed into the familiar ward. As she reached the nurse’s station, her phone rang. The nurse looked up at the sound, surprised. “I was just about to call you, and you’re already here?”

Cen Xin took out her phone. Nanxi’s transfer had arrived—the amount was equivalent to a year’s salary. Nanxi had been generous and didn’t ask a single question.

“Save my mother. I have the money.”

Though the nurse found it strange, she hurried Cen Xin over to sign the surgery consent form. “Your mother’s condition had actually improved, but for some reason this afternoon she tried to commit suicide again. She fell down the stairs and injured her head; she needs surgery immediately.”

Cen Xin signed the papers and paid the fees in silence, running up and down the hospital alone. By the time she returned to the operating room door, the surgery had already begun.

The waiting area was blindingly lonely at night. Cen Xin was the only person in the pale, empty space.

“Mom, you have to be okay this time…”

Hot tears flowed silently down her cheeks. Cen Xin leaned her head on her knees and wept soundlessly, her thin shoulders carrying the weight of total isolation.

She had changed Nanxi’s predicament. Did that mean she could change her mother’s reality too?

Sleeping until she woke up naturally, Chao Nanxi opened her phone to find an incredible number of missed calls and messages. She scanned through them; none were from Cen Xin.

After breakfast, Chao Nanxi walked into the walk-in closet. She tossed the bizarre outfits into a delivery box, thinking that no one would even want them as a donation.

“Original” Nanxi’s casual wear was quite simple—a white T-shirt and jeans were always a safe bet. However, her hair was a wild, tangled mess. Chao Nanxi tried several times with a claw clip but couldn’t replicate Cen Xin’s effortless effect.

She gave up.

Chao Nanxi sat in her car, hesitating to start the engine. She didn’t know what a home with parents and brothers was actually like.

At the same time, she felt a bit shameless. Though she didn’t know why, she had taken over Nanxi’s life and career, and now she even wanted to use the Nan family’s background to clear the path for her stardom.

She looked in the rearview mirror, trying to search for the “original” Nanxi, but found nothing.

Is this really the right thing to do?

Receiving no response, Chao Nanxi accessed Nanxi’s memories. There weren’t many regarding her family, and she had never mentioned them to anyone, but Chao Nanxi could clearly read regret and guilt in them.

“I will treat your family well,” Chao Nanxi vowed.

As for how to interact with them, she didn’t have a specific plan yet. She decided to rely on her professional skills: she would act as she went.

The Nan family villa was located across from a green park—a property with no market price. Amidst the sprawling greenery, flowers and plants were everywhere. Carved iron gates kept the meticulously crafted scenery inside, but couldn’t stop the naughty flower branches from reaching over the wall.

Chao Nanxi parked and followed her memory inside. She saw Nan Chu at the front door.

She gave a lukewarm greeting: “Brother.”

Nan Chu had been waiting for her for a long time. He nodded. “At least you’re punctual.”

Chao Nanxi pursed her lips. Her brother really didn’t know how to speak kindly.

“The more you say, the more you err,” she thought, so she simply nodded back and followed him inside. To her surprise, the entire Nan family was sitting in the living room.

Chao Nanxi looked at each of them:

Her eldest brother Nan Chu and his family of three; her second brother Nan Yi, a doctor, was also not alone. Only her third brother Nan Yao, a researcher, was still a “single dog.”

The couple sitting on the long sofa were Nanxi’s parents.

“Dad, Mom.”

She gave a faint greeting and stood in the middle of the room. The sofas were full; only the spot near her parents had space.

“Xiaoxi, I saw your livestream yesterday. If you need me, don’t be a stranger,” her sister-in-law spoke up first, breaking the silence and giving Nanxi an opening.

“Thank you, Sister-in-law. I… I actually do need you.”

Under the startled gazes of the Nan family, Chao Nanxi got straight to the point:

“I want to leave my company and open my own studio.”

Ever since Nanxi’s debut, she had never returned home. She used to call her mother, but after Wang Lan’s manipulation, even that link was severed. Years later, she suddenly appears and says this?

The Nan family looked at her with varying expressions.

This was a decision Chao Nanxi had made on the way over. Since they were already distant, it was better to be direct and show everyone: Nanxi has changed.

“Mom…”

Just as she uttered the word, the regret belonging to the original Nanxi surged again. Following that emotion, tears burst from her eyes.

Mother Nan had missed her daughter dearly. Seeing her cry, she immediately stood up, walked over, and pulled Nanxi into an embrace.

“My sweet girl, Mama knew you were suffering out there. It’s all the fault of your heartless brothers—not a single one was willing to help you.”

Mother Nan looked pointedly at her three sons.

The three Nan brothers instinctively turned to Father Nan. They were only following his orders.

Father Nan said coldly, “Since you’re back, stay for a few days. Who doesn’t come home for years?”

As soon as he spoke, Mother Nan shot him a freezing glare. “Nan Zhonghe, I knew you favored sons over daughters!”

The stoic Father Nan paled in shock: He didn’t, he wasn’t… he just wanted to show a bit of paternal authority, just for a second.

Chao Nanxi realized: although Mother Nan was the only Omega in this house, the true person in power was her.

“Mom,” Chao Nanxi hugged her arm, merging with Nanxi’s feelings, “I missed you so much.”

Author’s Note:

Little Assistant’s Work Diary:

Money I owe her.

Creditor +1.

Chao Nanxi: What does she look like when she’s not sleeping?